SES Chapter 88 Part 1

It was faint, drifting from a distance, with rhythmic pauses. If you listened closely, it even matched the tune he had hummed the first day they entered the mountains.

Forward, forward, forward…

That was his Brother Luo!

Cao Yanhua was ecstatic. He was about to signal Yi Wansan, when suddenly everything went dark overhead. In the next instant, the wild woman had tucked him under her arm and darted out of the cave like the wind.

Oh no!

Which one to eat? Which one? The fat one!

A surge of tragic determination welled up in him. If he was going to die anyway, then he’d go down fighting. He screamed at the top of his lungs, “Brother San! I’m done for! I’ll take her down with me! You have to seize this chance to run!”

But before he could finish, a furry hand clamped over his mouth, cutting him off. His eyes bulged as he watched Yi Wansan at the cave entrance grow smaller and smaller.

Cao Yanhua gave up all hesitation. Strangely, fear left him, replaced by reckless courage.

If I die, I’ll die gloriously. I’ll fight the wild woman and give Brother San a chance to survive.

The wind roared past. Cao Yanhua kicked with all his might, but only hit air. He jabbed his elbow again and again into her side, but all he felt was solid muscle.

She didn’t even flinch. Hadn’t she taken a bullet earlier, too, and never limped once?

A bullet?

Cao Yanhua’s heart pounded wildly. He remembered—on one of her legs, just above the knee, there had been a bloodstain. But which leg was it?

He was jolted upside down, headfirst, arms flailing as he desperately reached down. His hands brushed against something furry, and then—there! A small hollow, rough, like a scabbed-over wound. Without a second thought, Cao Yanhua dug his fingers in and pinched hard.

Don’t be fooled by his short, pudgy, sausage-like hands—he had real strength in them. Years of practicing “thief’s hands” made him quick, precise, and ruthless.

It seemed he’d found the right spot. The wild man let out a grunt of pain, stumbled, and fell to the ground with Cao Yanhua still in his grip. His mouth came free, air finally rushed into his lungs, and Cao Yanhua screamed at the top of his lungs:

“Help! Somebody help me!”

Mu Dai, who had been nodding off, jolted upright. “That’s Cao Yanhua!” she cried.

Luo Ren shot to his feet, machete in hand. “I’ll go!”

He disappeared in the direction of the voice almost instantly.

Mu Dai stood frozen, her hands and feet icy cold, while her eyes suddenly burned hot—Cao Yanhua was still alive.

Moments later, a wild roar echoed from the forest. Inside the cave, the woman seemed to sense it too. She struggled, rolling herself furiously toward the cave entrance. Sweat beaded on Mu Dai’s forehead. If she hadn’t been needed here, she would’ve bolted outside to back up Luo Ren.

Yan Hongsha read her mind. After a pause, she pulled a torch from the fire. “Mu Dai, staying here matters too. You’re better at fighting than I am—I’ll go help Luo Ren. Worst case, I can at least light the way for him.”

Mu Dai nodded quickly. “Alright. You go.”

Yan Hongsha left. Mu Dai’s heart pounded wildly as she paced back and forth. This helpless waiting—it was unbearable.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the woman nearly at the entrance, eyes glinting with a chilling light.

Mu Dai tried to ignore her, but the woman kept rolling closer and closer—right toward the fire. Mu Dai had no choice but to grab her arm and drag her back. The woman lay facedown, stiff as stone, refusing to budge. Irritated, Mu Dai yanked harder.

And then, without warning, the woman’s entire body went limp. It was like stepping into thin air, or like pushing with a thousand pounds of strength only to meet no resistance at all. Off balance, Mu Dai fell backward, dragging the woman with her. The woman landed right on top of her, pressing close, lowering her head fast—as if to kiss the spot behind Mu Dai’s ear.

Revulsion surged. Mu Dai gagged and shoved, but before she could push away, a light flared at the woman’s throat. Just as Luo Ren had described—twisted together like a rough rope—the crimson oracle-bone symbol for “hang.”

Something was wrong. But it all happened too fast.

The rouge-colored amber suddenly stretched thin, its mass unchanged, but its thickness vanishing. It spread wider and wider while still strangling the woman’s neck—until, like a film of plastic wrap, it slid up and over, covering Mu Dai’s face.

In an instant, all she could see was the bloody amber’s hue. She tried to breathe—but the air was gone.

Through that suffocating film, she glimpsed the woman’s blurred face. Or maybe it wasn’t the woman who was blurry—maybe it was her own mind fading.

Am I going to die?

Mu Dai’s hands clawed frantically—scratching the ground, clawing at the woman’s back. She had no idea how many times she flailed before suddenly clutching something solid.

A knife.

Luo Ren’s knife.

No wonder—when they’d first entered the cave and the woman moved, Mu Dai had occasionally heard the faint scrape of metal. Luo Ren had thrown this very blade into the woman’s back, and she’d never pulled it out.

With a burst of strength, Mu Dai ripped the knife free and drove it into the woman’s neck, slashing downward in a wild, desperate tear. At the same time, she thrust her other hand into the opened wound, seized the edge of her flesh, and ripped hard.

There was a wet, tearing sound. The woman’s body convulsed, twisted, and collapsed beside her. The suffocating amber membrane clinging to Mu Dai’s nose and mouth tore loose as well.

Air flooded back into her lungs. Gasping and choking, Mu Dai rolled onto the ground. With a furious swing, she hurled the strip of amber into the fire.

In the blaze, the thing stretched and spread, the bloody-red “hang” character glowing fiercely through the flames, its intricate strokes oozing with eerie malice.

Mu Dai snatched up a branch and tossed it in, feeding the fire.

“Stay in there and burn, you bastard.”